


In the Woods Somewhere

by oiyukis



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Gen, More Like Pre-Pre Relationship, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oiyukis/pseuds/oiyukis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakuryuu is eight when he follows a fox into the woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Woods Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was originally written for JuHaku week 2016; day 4. The prompt was 'promises.' 
> 
> I posted the original version of this on AO3 about a week ago, but it wasn't as polished as I wanted it to be because I didn't have the time to fix it up. This is the finished version, standing at about 1.7K longer than the original, and more like what I had originally thought about. Nothing has been deleted, but there has been a lot added. Chances are if this is familiar to you, you may have read the old version of the fic. I have deleted that version now that this is complete, since it doesn't make sense to have two posts with a large amount of the same content up on my account.

Once the fox disappears into the bushes, Hakuryuu squats down to wait. He’s a little out of breath, unused to extended physical activity, but his cheeks are flushed from excitement rather than exhaustion. Until now, Hakuryuu’s family trip has been uneventful. His siblings make frequent trips to the little village down the road from their country house, but Hakuryuu has never done well with strangers. He’d finished the books he’d brought with him, though, and the house is scary when he’s alone, creaking and groaning at the slightest breeze. He’d gone to sit on the porch, under the sun, when the fox had broken through the line of trees that started the long stretch up the mountain. Hakuryuu wonders if it’s someone’s pet. He doesn’t think anybody lives this far up the mountain. It’s been a steep climb so far, and Hakuryuu doesn’t think he’s climbed all that far to begin with.

It’s then, when the fox doesn’t poke its head back through the leaves, that Hakuryuu realizes he’s lost. The trees are thick and close together, unfamiliar and uniform. Several of the bushes have clusters of fruit growing among their leaves, but they’re not anything Hakuryuu has seen before. They’re small, like blackberries, but pinkish instead of indigo. Hakuryuu doesn’t know anything about farming and agriculture, but he doesn’t think they belong in this forest. He’s only ever seen fruit this color at Western markets, or on the flower petals in the garden back home. He picks a few, storing them in the pouch around his waist. He’ll offer them to the fox when it reappears … if it reappears.

Hakuryuu knows if he follows the downward slope of the mountain he’ll end up somewhere near the country home, but there is no downward slope. It’s a sudden realization, but he’s standing on flat ground. It’s impossible, but somewhere between waiting for the fox and picking the fruit, the slope of the mountain has become a flat clearing sectioned off by a large wall of bushes, the only break in them showing a dirt path lined with small hokora. Hakuryuu inches toward one, surprised that it’s smaller than himself. The ones in the garden of their city home are taller than him by a head or two, but these ones don’t reach his knees. He nudges the roof of the one closest to him. It’s smooth and warm, easily withstanding his small push.

Hakuryuu isn’t an athletic child. His brothers had been, he thinks, and his sister too. He’s always preferred studies to sports, though. He’s like his father in that way. His bookshelf back home is full of books that feature characters like Momotarou and Princess Kaguya. Hakuryuu knows enough about the subject to know what the hokora are for. He wonders who built them. They look almost natural, but Hakuryuu doesn’t think rocks just form spirit houses on their own. He doesn’t think there’s a shrine nearby. None of his siblings have ever mentioned one.

Hakuryuu doesn’t think on it much longer. He sits down on the path, pulling his knees to his chest and rubbing at his face. He can already feel the tears welling up, both from fear and habit. Hakuryuu is always found when he starts to cry. It’s usually by his siblings, but his cousins have stumbled across him from time to time.

Hakuryuu sniffs, and the tears come easily. He’s not a particularly loud crier, at least not at first, so his hiccups and noises don’t travel far. He can feel fat tears rolling down his cheeks, uncomfortably wet against his flushed skin. He doesn’t want this. It had been fun, at first, chasing after the fox. He’d stopped a few times, but it had always come back to nip at his ankles until he’d followed it again. But now he’s alone, and the fox is gone, and nobody knows he isn’t just waiting back at the house for his siblings to return. He’s caught up in his crying before he knows it, mind circling between _what if nobody comes_ and _I can’t live in the woods I’m only eight_ , so he doesn’t hear the approaching footsteps from the path.

“Hey.”

Hakuryuu jumps up in surprise, but his foot catches on the closest of the rock-shrines. He topples to the ground in a whoosh of air and a muffled thump. It’s enough of a surprise to halt his crying for a moment, but then the embarrassment settles over him. It hadn’t been a far fall, so he isn’t hurt, but the tears are flowing freely, accompanied this time by chest-rattling sobs.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Little hands try to pick him off the ground, first grabbing at the tie around his waist, then the back of his shirt. Hakuryuu is hauled off the ground and brushed off. “How’d you get here?”

Hakuryuu turns to look, and through his tears he can only see the mask. It’s not exactly the same, but Hakuryuu thinks of the mask that once sat on the mantel in his father’s office. It had been picked up from a museum auction, charming in its artistic simplicity. This one is a little more complex, designed with sharp, red accents around the eyes and the curling grin. Despite the sharp ears sitting at the top of the mask, it’s the nose that tips Hakuryuu off to what kind of mask it is. A small, upside-down triangle painted below a delicate curve: it’s a kitsune mask. He’s seen a lot of them in his books, but the design on the forehead isn’t familiar. It looks a little bit like an eye, but centered in some sort of dark, rounded diamond. He can’t make any more details out through his tears. It’s not a comforting mask, and being face-to-face with a stranger isn’t a comforting situation. 

Hakuryuu continues to sob, scrambling away from the masked stranger. He manages to propel himself behind a tree, digging his fingers into the bark to stay upright. He tries to catch his breath, but crying makes it hard.

“Hey.” The stranger leans around the tree, fingers resting on top of Hakuryuu’s. “I don’t mind that you’re here. You don’t have to cry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’m lost!” Hakuryuu wails at him.

“You’re not lost. You’re in my—.” The stranger stares at him for a moment. He releases Hakuryuu’s fingers and reaches up for his mask, pulling it off his face. He doesn’t look much older than Hakuryuu, round-faced and red-eyed. “Wait,” the stranger says, leaving the mask askew in his hair. “Are you human?”

Hakuryuu sniffs. He has to swallow a few times before his voice comes out the way it’s supposed to. “What?”

“You are!” He steps back a bit, enough for Hakuryuu to see he’s wearing robes that look like they’re from a bedtime story about emperors and gods. He doesn’t have much room to judge, given his own traditional attire, but at least his outfit has pants. He’s never seen robes this extravagant in person, only in the movies. They’re exactly the sort of robes he’d imagine a kitsune would wear. “I’ve never met a human before. How’d you get here?”

“I.” Hakuryuu breaks off to wipe at his face. He’s starting to calm down. Without the mask, the stranger isn’t so scary, even though he’s saying weird things. “I just came up the mountain.”

“Mountain?” The stranger scrunches his eyebrows together. “There’s no mountain.”

Hakuryuu points, “It’s that way.”

“There’s no mountain that way.”

“I came up it.”

“I don’t think that’s right.” But the stranger waves a hand as if it doesn’t really matter. “Anyway, I’ve never met a human before. You’re all soft-looking.” He puts his hands on either side of Hakuryuu’s face, pinching his cheeks. “And squishy.”

Hakuryuu bats his hands away, eyes still wet. He’s not openly crying anymore, but it won’t take much to start him up again. It never does once he’s started.

The stranger grins, holding his thumb to his chest. “I’m Judar,” he announces. “This is my territory.” He looks up, sticking his nose in the air with a hint of smugness. “So if you’re lost, I guess it’s my duty as a kindly guardian to help you out.”

Hakuryuu sniffs. “You’ll help me?”

“Yes!” He jabs at Hakuryuu’s chest. “But I have a condition.”

Hakuryuu dries his face with his sleeves, waiting.

“Play with me,” Judar demands, grinning widely. “If you play with me, I’ll help you.”

“For how long?” Hakuryuu mumbles.

“Until I’m bored!” Judar says brightly.

Hakuryuu frowns. That won’t take too long, right? If Judar really is from around here, Hakuryuu will have a better chance with him than by himself.

 “We’ll start with tag.” Judar steps closer, putting his hand on Hakuryuu’s chest. “What’s your name?”

“Ren Hakuryuu.”

Judar scrunches his face again. “Oh, I forgot. Humans have two names. That’ll be too hard to remember.”

Hakuryuu doesn’t really know what Judar means by human. Does it imply Judar isn’t human? He looks human. He doesn’t look like a monster, or any of the creatures from Hakuryuu’s mythology books. And at any rate, his name isn’t that hard to remember.  

“I’m just going to call you Hakuryuu.” He nudges Hakuryuu back a little. “You chase first, okay?” He turns before Hakuryuu can say anything, darting down the path. It reminds him of the fox from before, but he can’t think about it for too long or he’ll lose sight of Judar. He moves, chasing after Judar’s laughter. He doesn’t want to be alone again.

 

* * *

 

 

Hakuryuu catches Judar several times before Judar announces they’re going to play hide and seek instead. He’s not exactly a sore loser. He pouts a bit each time he’s caught, but it doesn’t take long for him to brighten up again. Judar has the advantage in hide and seek, though. Hakuryuu learns this when Judar literally vanishes from sight in front of him. It startles him the first time, enough that Hakuryuu is sent into another crying fit. Judar sits with him, rubbing his back until he tuckers himself out.

“I’m not human,” Judar says. Hakuryuu believes him this time. “I don’t know if there’s a name for what I am. It’s not like there’s anyone to ask.”

“You’re alone?” Hakuryuu blinks at him. “Isn’t that scary?”

“Ha? No. I don’t have to listen to anyone.” Judar sticks his nose up. “What do I have to worry about, anyway? Nobody can get here unless they’re like me.” He pauses. “Except you, I guess.”

When Hakuryuu is older, he’ll wonder why that is. Now, Hakuryuu is eight, and Judar’s words only remind him that wherever ‘here’ is, Hakuryuu’s family can’t reach it. He wonders how long he’s been in the forest. He feels more exhausted than he should for a little running around, and the sun hasn’t moved at all. “I want to go home.”

“I’ll take you home,” Judar says, “but I want to play first.”

“We did that.”

“That? That was just a little. I want to play a lot.” Judar bumps shoulders with him.

“My brothers are probably worried.” Hakuei, too.

“Why would they worry? You’re with me.”

“But they don’t know that.”

Judar is quiet for a moment, long enough for Hakuryuu to wonder if that had been smart to say. Eventually, Judar says, “You’re just tired. You should take a nap.”

It’s not the solution Hakuryuu wants, but he _is_ tired. “Where?”

“Here! I sleep out here all the time!” Judar spreads his arms and fall backwards, landing in the grass.

Hakuryuu stares at him for a moment, apprehensive.

“It’s soft,” Judar promises. “There’s nothing out here that will hurt you.”

Judar isn’t lying about this either. When Hakuryuu settles the grass feels different than it’s supposed to, like Judar’s words have changed it somehow. It’s soft, tickling against the back of his neck like the corner of a bedsheet. Hakuryuu wonders about the bugs. Will they crawl over him if he falls asleep? He hasn’t seen any bugs, though. No trails of ants, or butterflies, or even mosquitoes, and it’s the season for them.

Judar is the only living thing Hakuryuu has seen in this forest.

No, Hakuryuu thinks, that’s not entirely right. There had been the fox. Judar could turn into things, though. Had Judar been the fox? Hakuryuu wants to think about that a little more, but the clouds move sluggish across the sky and Judar is humming by his ear and the wind is just the right kind of warm. It’s the same kind of lull that comes with eating too much on a hot day. Hakuryuu wants to give in, so he does. 

 

* * *

 

 

Hakuryuu finally wakes up because his stomach is growling. Judar is still at his side, though sitting up, digging his fingers into the pit of a peach. His fingers, shiny with fruit juice, are thin and sharp. He flicks them at the air, scattering the liquid across the grass, then stuffs the rest of the fruit in his mouth.

“Where’d you get that?”

When Judar looks down at him, Hakuryuu has to hold in a laugh. Judar’s eyebrows are high on his face, the picture of innocence, but his cheeks are puffing out like a chipmunk. He doesn’t even chew what’s in his mouth before swallowing it down. “Here.”

“Do you have any more?”

Judar stares at him for a long moment. “No,” he finally says. “And anyway, you shouldn’t eat anything from here. You might get sick. The food here isn’t meant for humans.”

Hakuryuu toys with the pouch at his side. “Oh.”

Judar grins, “But we can play again! Now that you’re awake!”

“Play what?”

“We didn’t finish hide and seek.”

“Will you take me home after that?”

“Ugh,” Judar rolls his eyes dramatically. “You’re too worried about that, Hakuryuu. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

That … isn’t untrue. Hakuryuu supposes his siblings aren’t going to just abandon him if he doesn’t come back to the country house. They’ll stay until he returns. “Okay,” he says. “We’ll play.”

“Okay!” Judar stands. “You count, I hide. We can switch when you find me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Judar doesn’t make it easy. He disguises himself as different things in the forest, from trees to animals. At first Hakuryuu isn’t very good at finding him. Judar’s transformations are nearly perfect. It takes Hakuryuu almost an hour to find Judar the first time he turns into a tree. It’s the little things that make Judar’s disguises stand out. If he turns into an animal, his eyes are still red. If he turns into an object, he can’t really hide his breathing. Leaves shake without wind, rocks tremble. If Hakuryuu looks close enough, finding Judar isn’t too hard.

There’s a catch, of course. Judar starts to laugh every time he’s found, announcing that they’re going to play again. Instead of waiting for Hakuryuu to hide, Judar disappears again. He isn’t playing fairly, but Hakuryuu isn’t mad. Hide and Seek is actually kind of fun.

But Judar doesn’t stop. They play for hours, but night never comes. It seems that the forest is stuck in some kind of perpetual noon, though Hakuryuu doesn’t give it much thought. All Hakuryuu knows is that he’s tired again, body heavy with the kind of fatigue that comes with running around all day.

Hakuryuu sits down on the ground before another hokora. They’re all over the forest, but this one isn’t clustered like the others. “Found you,” he says, tapping the roof. It shivers under his finger, and then it’s gone.

“You found me so fast!” Judar says from behind him, laughing loudly. Hakuryuu has to twist around to see him. “Again!”

 “Wait!” Hakuryuu says. “You promised you’d take me home.”

“I know,” Judar groans. “When we’re done playing.”

“I’m done playing.”

“What? Why?” Judar drops to his knees, but he’s still a head taller than Hakuryuu. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“I guess, but—”

“It’s fine, then!”

“No.”

Judar visibly deflates.

“I like playing with you,” Hakuryuu says, “but I want to go home.”

“But I can’t see you if you go home.”

“I’m here for the summer. We can play tomorrow.”

Judar doesn’t look convinced. Hakuryuu is telling as much of a truth as he can. His family always leaves the city for the summer. It’s the first year he’s been old enough to go with them instead of being left behind with the tutors and babysitters that comprise the residents of their home in the city. Even so, he’s much younger than the rest of his siblings. Maybe Judar can come down to the house, instead of Hakuryuu trekking through the woods to find him.

“We can’t, though.”

“Judar—.”

“We have to go to the temple,” Judar says. He doesn’t seem happy about it. “That’s how you’ll get home.”

“Where is it?”

Judar points, then stands. “Come on.”

Hakuryuu follows Judar again, but this route is significantly less rowdy than before. Judar doesn’t say anything, shoulders dropped back. They pass more hokora on the way. They seem to be getting bigger the closer they get to the shrine. Hakuryuu isn’t sure how long they walk, long enough for his feet to start aching a little, when the gate comes into view.

The silence roars somehow when they pass under the torii gate. It’s so abrupt that Hakuryuu stumbles with the change, turning back to stare into the woods. There hadn’t been any noise when they were playing, but this is different. It’s like another world, cut off even from the forest. It’s suffocating.

“Don’t look back,” Judar says. “It’ll get worse.”

Hakuryuu turns to face him. “What will?”

Judar makes a vague gesture. It doesn’t answer Hakuryuu’s question, but somehow he understands. He doesn’t turn around again.

The temple beyond the gate is impressive, sprawling across the clearing and looming far above Hakuryuu’s head. There are five floors, and he can’t see how far back the temple extends. It’s painted the same color scheme as Judar’s robes: deep red, black, and gold. Hakuryuu isn’t very familiar with religion. His family doesn’t observe any, and his siblings say the Shinto-feel to the garden back home is just for show. Still, Hakuryuu feels awed by this temple. There is something sacred about it, even in its intimidation.

Judar doesn’t seem to share that feeling. He doesn’t miss a beat, leading them straight inside and closing the doors behind Hakuryuu. The entry room is surprisingly plain, a wide room designed more like the modern-day kind of traditional Hakuryuu is used to. There’s no furniture in the room, just a little fox curled up in the corner. Is it the same fox from before? Then Judar isn’t the fox … right? Hakuryuu still isn’t sure how this whole magic thing works.

Judar doesn’t follow Hakuryuu as he walks into the room. He holds on to the doors, pressing against them like a safety net. “We can play instead,” he says. “You don’t have to go. You could stay.”

Hakuryuu looks over his shoulder to frown at Judar. He shakes his head.

“You could,” Judar says again. “If you want to.”

“I want to go home.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” Judar stares at him.

Hakuryuu doesn’t know what to say. Judar can’t really live here alone, can he? There has to be somebody around. He’s just one person. There’s no reason for the shrine to be so large if he’s all alone. There’s no reason for the forest to be so endless if he’s all alone.

“Will you come see me again?” Judar asks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Promise,” Judar says. “Don’t forget about me.”

Hakuryuu holds out his pinkie.

Judar stares at his hand.

“It’s a human thing?” Hakuryuu tries.

Judar lets one of the doors go. He thrusts out his pinkie, touching the tip of it to Hakuryuu’s. It sends a sharp jolt through Hakuryuu’s hand, like a static shock.

“No, you--.” Hakuryuu locks their fingers together. “Like this.”

Judar stares at their fingers, then glances up at Hakuryuu. He untangles their fingers, reaching up to his mask. He pulls it off after a few moments of fiddling with the string. Judar reaches over Hakuryuu’s head, fixing it in place. He only drops his hands when he’s satisfied his mask isn’t going to slip off Hakuryuu’s head. 

Hakuryuu reaches up, feeling around the cold surface. It had scared him before, but it feels fragile now, resting so precariously on his head.

“Don’t forget me,” Judar says. “You have to come find me again.”

Hakuryuu drops his arms, nodding. This feels a little more important than the kind of promises he makes his siblings. “I will,” he says.

Judar nods, then steps in close. “Don’t wait too long,” Judar adds. “I don’t like being alone.”

Hakuryuu doesn’t like that either, so he agrees solemnly.

Judar takes a few steps back, sliding the doors open again. “Come on.”

Hakuryuu shuffles forward a little, looking through the door. It doesn’t look like the scenery has changed. He can still see the steps leading up to the temple and the torii gate at the far side of the clearing.

“We’ll walk back together,” Judar says. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Hakuryuu steps outside the temple, shielding his eyes from the sun. He waits for a few moments, then frowns. He turns back, ready to sulk at Judar for taking too long, but Judar and the temple have vanished. The forest before him has changed as well. Hakuryuu can see the porch that wraps around the country house. The sun is low in the sky, casting the house’s large shadow across the yard. There are crowds of people everywhere, but nobody he recognizes.

Judar is gone.

Hakuryuu turns around again, looking back through the trees. There’s no shrine behind him, no yorishiro tied around the tree trunks. He can hear the buzzing of cicadas and the faint noise of crickets. Somehow the noises are disappointing. He doesn’t pay any attention to the commotion by the house, too caught up in staring at the trees, wondering if Judar will peek out from behind one and grin at him.

Suddenly Hakuryuu is lifted off the ground, turned and pressed close to someone’s chest. He panics for a moment, until he hears the familiar voice of his brother. “—finally found you. Are you hurt?”

“Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere,” Hakuren adds, standing by Hakuyuu’s side.

“—so worried,” Hakuei is saying, pressed in close to Hakuryuu’s back.

“Are you hurt?” Hakuyuu asks again. “Hakuryuu?”

Hakuryuu instinctively wraps his arms around his brother’s neck. His siblings, his exhaustion, Judar’s sudden disappearance … it’s all too much at once. He presses his face to Hakuyuu’s chest, heedless of the gifted mask. Hakuyuu doesn’t complain, or even shift to get more comfortable.

“What happened to you?” Hakuei asks quietly.

Hakuryuu rests his chin on Hakuyuu’s shoulder, talking mostly to himself. “I made a friend.”

“A friend?” Hakuren lapses into silence for a moment. “What does that mean? Hakuryuu?”

But Hakuryuu isn’t really listening. Judar is still at the front of his mind. Hakuryuu is sure they’ll see each other soon. He wants to make good on his promise to visit Judar the following day, but Hakuryuu doesn’t know if he can climb all that way so soon. He hopes Judar won’t mind if he waits a couple of days first.

As Hakuyuu turns to lead them all inside, Hakuryuu gets a last look at the forest that crawls up the mountain. He can see the peak from here, a stoic figure standing watch over the villages below. There is no break in the trees for a clearing, even one as small as the one Hakuryuu had followed the fox to. There’s no temple roof peeking above the leaves. There’s nothing to prove what had happened wasn’t a dream, but Hakuryuu knows it had been real. He knows that somewhere in those woods there’s a boy waiting for him to return. 

 

 


End file.
